


New York Heat

by missgaley (sathalia)



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Non-Graphic Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sathalia/pseuds/missgaley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MCU.  Post-Avengers.  The Black Widow and Iron Man find themselves alone once again.  Old feelings are rekindled and re-explored.  Both find comfort in the aftermath of the battle of New York.  [Sequel to Compromised Positions.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	New York Heat

He didn't trust her. Of course he couldn't trust her. None of them truly trusted one another. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s greatest mistake was forming the Avengers. And yet, from their biggest mistake came one of their biggest victories. They had all managed to come together at the last minute, to stop Loki, save Manhattan, and possibly the world in the process. But that didn't mean they were a team. A team implied trust and friendship. Sure, they had begun to work out their differences, but for some of the group, trust was something that would be hard to earn.

She was no longer Natalie Rushman. She hadn't been for some time. When Natasha had seen Tony Stark again, she had been on the helicarrier because of Fury's orders. He'd given Coulson the okay to pull her straight from a mission and that on its own was enough to tell her that something big was about to happen. That and her partner had been compromised.

For the most part, Natasha had ignored Tony and his petty squabbling with the others. She was there for Clint, to find him and pull him back into reality or — if it came down to it — to put a bullet in his head. The latter option still made a sour taste linger in her mouth. But it was there, in New York, where she was reminded once again how Tony Stark could surprise her every step of the way.

She had seen Tony when his life had been on the line. Never would she have taken him to be the sort who would sacrifice it. His dignity, perhaps, as he had while he was dying in the first place, but not his life, so soon after he had just gotten it back. Even Captain Rogers, an all American hero, had said that Tony Stark would never make the sacrifice play. And yet he did. Just when Natasha thought her fascination with Tony had vanished and been replaced with her usual irritation, it had returned in the blink of an eye.

Loki was secured for now and the group had, at Tony's insistence, gone for a quick bite to eat. Well, quick was not the word for it. They were all tired and slow and even though the threat of an alien invasion was gone and the burden had been lifted, it still felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on their shoulders. What would happen during the next crisis? Would "the Avengers" come together once again?

Natasha, for one, did not stay to find out. She had waded out into a war and come out nearly unscathed but not entirely. Her mind was racing. She was a spy, not a super soldier or a demigod. She had gone where she was needed. But Fury, despite his faith in the Avengers Initiative, had never officially ordered her to do any of what she had done. Of course, she was her own woman and she did not regret fighting to save the country that had adopted and saved her from her previous life, but it made her question what was next for her. She would go back to S.H.I.E.L.D., of course, and continue to try to wipe some of the red off of her ledger. No matter what she had accomplished in Manhattan, one day of heroics could only smear so much red.

Natasha heard the control console of her car beep suddenly as the Bluetooth receiver turned itself on. She frowned, quickly glancing at her rear-view mirror. Of course — she should have guessed.

"Heading home, Agent Romanoff?" came the oddly chipper but tired voice through her car's speaker system.

She didn't bother to respond. Natasha wasn't sure why Tony was following her car in his Iron Man suit and she was not in the mood to know.

"Where is home anyway?"

Never mind, he was just going to badger her until she said something. That was just how Tony was. She should have known better — of all the "Avengers" (the name still felt strange to her), she had spent the most time with him already.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Stark?"

She had dropped the formalities. "Mr. Stark" was something Natalie Rushman would have called him. Natasha Romanoff had no qualms about being curt with him.

"You wound me, Romanoff."

There was a pause.

"Look, come by the tower. I offered the same to the others, if you were wondering, but you had already left by the time I got around to it. Don't know when they'll all get around to joining us but it's a place to… well, clean up a bit, I guess."

It was oddly sincere coming from him. Had the near-death experience shocked some manners into Tony? Natasha almost smirked at the thought. But he had a point. She wanted to get cleaned up. She didn't have a destination in mind. She had planned to regroup with S.H.I.E.L.D., she supposed, but it would be nice to at least wash the blood off of her face first.

And she was too tired to argue, so she just agreed and made the next turn rather suddenly. It didn't really matter — there weren't many cars on the streets of Manhattan at the moment.

"Where did you get a car anyway—"

"Be quiet, Stark, or I'll run it through your front door."

She chuckled at his reaction — a small huff and, assuming he believed her, what sounded like a question for JARVIS about damage costs.

Despite her words, she parked outside. She was let in by JARVIS, who pleasantly announced that Tony would join her in a moment and that none of the other Avengers were, at the present time, on the premises. Apparently neither was "Miss Potts".

Natasha was directed up an elevator, where she sagged against the wall for the duration of the short ride, something she would only do while she was alone. As soon as the doors opened, announcing her arrival, she straightened. Tony was there to meet her, making himself a drink unsurprisingly.

At least this time she wasn't doing it for him.

This was the first time, Natasha realised, that they had been alone in a long time. It was one of the first times since the night of his party and its… unexpected turn of events. Tony leaned up against the counter, the only remnants of his suit still attached to him were the two metal bracelets he wore around his wrists. He had been bragging about the technology and its success over dinner before even he ran out of steam.

He cut straight to the chase, clearly noticing that something in the air around them had shifted as Natasha's thoughts churned and her piercing gaze settled on him.

"There's a, uh, washroom, just around the corner there with everything… running water, towels, and such."

Natasha rolled her eyes at him and just nodded once, following his gestured directions. But she stopped, biting her lip, an odd question forming in her mind, one she could not quite find the motive behind.

"How's Pepper?"

Tony looked a little surprised when she turned around, leaning on the wall slightly. He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

"She's probably freaking out right now. Tried to call her and everything when I went up there, through the portal. She didn't answer — or maybe cellular reception just isn't very good up there — but knowing her, she's seen the news coverage and is racing home with Happy."

Natasha just nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. The strawberry blonde had been a strange area of interest for Natasha. She had always respected the woman but had never figured out her relationship with Tony. Even to her expertly trained eye, she might have assumed they were together until the night Tony had come to 'Natalie'.

"We're not, uh, you know. I mean, we were trying it out and things were working for awhile but she deserves… well, she deserves someone better. Maybe someone simple, who doesn't keep nearly dying."

Natasha could tell he was trying to make a joke. She almost did laugh. They lapsed into silence, Tony staring into Natasha's green eyes as he once had before, unable to tear his gaze away.

That night, she had been compromised. She had let the most surprising of emotions take over and give in to something she could never have planned. She had been compromised again, when Loki had looked at her and seen things in her that few people ever saw. Love, compassion, fear, confusion. At the time, she had been concerned for her partner, but she wondered what else had been there, waiting for the perfect time to be rekindled?

Natasha wondered if she could ever rebuild the walls she had accidentally let down. After so much time, even standing in the same room… she was tired and confused and right now, Natasha just wanted something simple. Something constant. She thought S.H.I.E.L.D. was her constant. But now, she realised, it was turning out to be something else entirely — someone else.

"Romanoff, what are you do—"

She cut him off, crossing the room and pressing her lips to his forcefully, almost having to stand on her toes to reach them. This was Tony. He was a pain in the ass, arrogant, even condescending at times… but he knew. He knew drive, he knew passion, he knew what it was like to now, on multiple occasions, realise that life has he knew it could very literally end at any moment. He didn't know her, but Natasha wasn't ready for that yet. Maybe in time. But she wasn't thinking about that now.

"Natasha? It's Natasha right? Not Natalie or—"

"Natasha."

She had barely believed herself the first time, the second even less. She was stepping into dangerous territory and this time she was the one making the first move. But she wanted to make it clear: she was Natasha, not Natalie or some other woman she had created for the sake of a cover.

"It's Natasha."

Tony didn't seem to need any more persuasion. One quick command to JARVIS and the glass windows dimmed so no one could see inside, not that it mattered with how high up they were. Still, who knew who or what could show up these days? It didn't even seem to matter that there was a Loki-shaped crater in the middle of the room. Tony pushed her up against the bar, as if they were just picking up where they had left off before. This time there was no hesitation, no inner debates about whether this was right or wrong, real or imaginary. Their fingers found buckles and zippers and pulled away clothing that was only going to be on the floor eventually. This time it just happened sooner rather than later.

Tony's lips found hers again. He was surprisingly gentle, brushing over the cut on her lip as lightly as a feather. She tasted blood on his lips afterward and only paused briefly to bring her own fingers to the cut, not realising it had reopened. Tony tugged her hand away, sucking on her fingers, then kissing her palm, before moving up to her lips again.

He knew where to please her and when. With all the time that had passed, he clearly had not easily forgotten. He had lifted her onto the counter, pushing aside anything that would move without breaking. One hand was tangled in her tousled red curls while the other had found its place between her legs.

At first, Natasha bit her tongue to keep from making any noise. She had a feeling that, this time, if Tony realised he was doing everything right, he'd turn into his usual cocky self. She almost laughed softly. It would be… very Tony. But, she supposed she should let him have his satisfaction so the next time his fingers circled expertly, she inhaled sharply. Tony grinned in that strangely endearing boyish way of his.

But she would not dare call him a boy. Boys were sloppy and shy. Tony had moved past his teasing, clearly ready to provide more than that. And he could. Small nips were exchanged and Natasha's nails dug into Tony's shoulders, leaving little red marks in their place when her fingers suddenly stretched with a wave of pleasure.

Whereas before, their rhythm had quickly progressed, this time exhaustion was taking over and they slowed together, finding a pace that suited them both. Natasha found that she didn't mind. She leaned into Tony's shoulder, her arms draped around his neck. The closeness was calming after all her confusion and emotional turmoil. Their inexplicable connection placated her mind. And she could tell that Tony could feel it too. They didn't need the enclosed space of a bedroom to place them in their own temporary little world. Natasha closed her eyes, only for them to reopen while she gasped. Tony mischievously grinned down at her.

It was only a matter of time before the combination of movement in his hips and fingers brought Natasha over the edge. He came in turn, pulling away at just the last second. Natasha's arms were still linked behind his neck, although now she held him at a distance. Then she brushed her fingers over his cheekbone, letting them fall along his jawline, until she too pulled away, leaning back on the counter.

It was Tony who spoke first.

"You know, you're quite the puzzle, Romanoff."

Her lips twitched, smirking.

"I thought you liked puzzles."

"I do."

A comfortable moment passed between them. Tony then glanced down, toward her fallen uniform. He picked it up, offering it to her as Natasha lightly slid off the counter.

"You might, uh, need this."

"I do."

He nodded, then jerked his head to the side, indicating where he had earlier stated the bathroom was. Neither of them were about to get sentimental. Natasha was grateful. She had a feeling that whatever she was feeling, he was too. And Tony could be his own enigma when it came to emotions. She just took her uniform from him and turned toward the bathroom where she could clean up, as originally intended.

"I guess you're not planning to stay."

"No, I'm not."

Tony looked almost disappointed. Natasha couldn't say she didn't feel the same way for the briefest of seconds.

"Are you going to come back?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

She was grinning. When Tony looked up from pulling his pants back on, he saw it and realised it was the first time she had ever genuinely smiled like that at him. Natasha just shrugged a shoulder.

"We'll see."

Then she turned around the corner. She would be gone by the time Tony came looking for her later, having snuck away before JARVIS could even bid her farewell. She felt an uncharacteristic heat blooming in her cheeks. She, Natasha Romanoff, was compromised.

And today she didn't care.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, you guys asked for a sequel so a sequel has been written. Although I am a Natasha/Steve shipper at heart, I'm tempted to create my own little universe to continue exploring Tony/Natasha as a couple. But I hope this fic lived up to its predecessor's standard. The first fic was written with a specific scene in mind (with full dialogue pulled straight from it) but this one was one of my own creation as a follow up to The Avengers. Thanks again for reading.


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